patrol, and they had come in conflict with parties of Germans, but no large bodies. They had even each been wounded slightly, but never before, in all their lives, had they had a part in such a hailstorm of death, such a turmoil of blood, mud, smoke, gas and flying bullets as now. On and over the rough shell-pitted ground they rushed toward the German trenches. On they rushed in the gray dawn of the morning, firing as they ran, hardly stopping to take aim, for they could see the gray, indefinite mass before them, and knew they were the German troops who had rushed out of their trenches to meet the onslaught. At first the attack had been a surprise--a surprise so great that the Germans could not, at the beginning, reply even with adequate rifle fire, to say nothing of artillery and machine guns. But, in a moment, seemingly, all this was changed. Tongues and slivers of fire began to spit out from the gray ranks opposing the Americans. There was a snarl of the lighter artillery guns, the spiteful bark of the rifles and the wicked rat-a-tat-tat of the machine guns, which the Germans depended on, more than on anything else, to stop a rush of our infantry. Half way across No Man's Land rushed Ned, Bob, and Jerry, with their cheering, madly yelling comrades, and then the toll of death began. It was the fortune of war. Those that lived by rifles and bayonets must perish by them, and for the deaths that they exacted of the Huns their lives were exacted in return. Jerry, who with grim-set face and blazing eyes rushed on at the side of the tall Southern giant, heard a dull thud. Then came a sort of gasping, choking cry that was audible even above the horrid din of battle. Jerry, in a glance, saw his big comrade crumple up in a heap, the whole front of his body torn away by a piece of shell. And for one terrible instant Jerry felt that he, himself, must fall there, too, so terrible was the sight. But he nerved himself to go on, and a backward glance showed that Bob had to leap over the dead body of the lad who but a moment before was yelling encouragement to others. But it was war, and it had to be. On and on they rushed. Now they were at the first line of the German barbed wire. Some of it had been cut by the swift firing of shrapnel before the troops came from their trenches. But enough remained to be a hindrance, and quickly the men with cutters surged forward to open the way. It was while the Americans were held up here that the Germans took fearful and heavy toll of them with their machine guns, which were now sputtering with terrific firing. Scores of brave men went down, some never to rise again. Others, only slightly wounded, staggered for a minute, paused behind some dead comrade's body to adjust a bandage, and then went on. Forward they rushed. Through 

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